Franki took a step back, apparently struck dumb by Perry's ignorance and bigotry.

She sputtered, unable to find words, and Craig watched it all with an odd sense of detached surrealism. He wasn't gay, and he didn't take the insults personally. And yet, he felt a moral outrage that astounded him. He dragged himself out of the pool and wrapped a towel around himself. He deigned it wise to stay out of this battle that was being waged between people who had known each other their entire lives.

"Leave Perry alone, sis," slurred Derek from his deck chair. "He's just feeling his beer a little. He doesn't know what he's saying."

"The hell he doesn't." She plowed a finger into Perry's Pillsbury Doughboy gut. "I always suspected you were hiding an arrogant-asshole personality behind that happy-go-lucky facade of yours, Perry, but I guess I was wrong."

"No kidding?" Perry's face contorted in rage as blood flooded his capillaries. "I guess that shouldn't be a surprise considering how you're wrong so much of the time."

Franki stepped away from him. "I won't dignify that, Perry-the-Pear, but I was wrong about that. You're not an arrogant asshole, you're an arrogant, limp-dicked, bigoted, son-of-a-bitchin' asshole, and I thank my lucky stars that I'm not related to you. I truly pity Troy, but I'm glad he had the good sense to sever his ties with this family. I'll be sure and tell him that you've been poisoning his son with your prejudices and antiquated ideas. I'm sure it'll give him all kinds of warm fuzzies to know that his decision to abandon you all was the right one."

"You're a bitch," breathed Perry. "A mouthy, fucking bitch."

Craig suppressed the urge to stride over to David and cover the poor boy's ears.

"Maybe so," snapped Franki. "But at least I'm human. Sometimes I'm not so sure about you, Perry. People like you and your parents give the human race a bad name. I just-"

"Franki!"

Craig whirled around to see the two matriarchs standing at the edge of the concrete.

"I can't believe I'm hearing you say these things!" said Marie, wrapping her arms around her slender waist in apparent agony.

"Believe it, Mother. Other than Troy, I've never liked the Elliotts. None of them. And I'm sick of pretending that I do."

Lois' face reminded Craig of a vine-ripened beefsteak tomato. "We invite you to our home, extend food and hospitality, make you welcome, and this is the thanks we get?"

"Oh, puh-lease. You people don't do anything out of the goodness of your hearts. Everything you do is for you. You may manage to look benevolent, but there's always a hidden agenda in everything you and Perry do."

Marie looked like she might faint, and Lois like she was about to explode, but Franki had no intention of letting up. "And I'm not sure what today was all about, but it certainly wasn't about making Sloan and his lover feel welcome and at home in Sloan's old hometown. I know for a fact that you share your son's Philistine opinions of Sloan's and Craig's sexual preferences. You'd just as soon see them locked up on Alcatraz as munching burgers on your patio. So you had to have another reason for asking them here today."

Marie wrung her hands and moved a step away from Lois, apparently afraid of getting hit by flying tomato seed shrapnel. "Franki, please. For once in your life think before you speak."

"I'm just not sure what that reason is." Franki finished without so much as a glance at her mother. Instead she graced Perry with an accusing glare.

"You better get away from me," he hissed. "Or you'll really get a taste of my hidden agenda."

Franki whirled around. "Come on, Craig." He was astounded when she grabbed his hand and dragged him along with her toward the bluff. "I need to work off some steam. I think a brisk walk on the beach is in order."

Craig followed her blindly, still a little dazed and confused by what had just happened.

"I'll have your things put in your car," called Lois, her voice a barely restrained scream. "You don't need to bother coming back through the house."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I'd rather take a stroll through a meat locker. It'd be a hell of a lot warmer," shouted Franki.

They reached the edge of the bluff, and Craig was relieved to see that they were heading for a set of wooden stairs that hugged the face of the steep dune.

Franki was still holding his hand as they descended the stairs, but when they reached the bottom he found the strength to wrench it away.

"What the hell was that all about?" he seethed.

Franki turned to him and propped her hands on her hips. "Gee, you're welcome."

"And just what am I supposed to be thanking you for?"

"For defending you! You certainly weren't bothering to stand up for yourself. I don't know how Sloan puts up with you."

"I'm great in bed," he said dryly.

"You can drop the charade, big boy." She turned and marched toward the beach. "I know your secret, and you know I know."

He sprinted to catch up with her, and this time it was his turn to grab her arm and spin her around. "Exactly. I know that, so that's why I can't figure out why you went to all that trouble to stand up for my gayness."

"I did it because I can't stand the whole Elliott entity. And I did it because I care about Sloan. And you.

I couldn't stand to see you humiliated, even if it is all a ruse."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"You don't care about me."

"I do so."

He threw up his hands. "Oh, now there's a moving entreaty. I'd almost be convinced if I didn't know that you don't care about anybody but yourself." Franki's mouth dropped open. "Well, considering you've known me for two whole days, I think that's a pretty cheeky thing to say."

"If you care about someone you don't manipulate and use that person for your own ends."

"Manipulate?"

"You intentionally seduced me to prove your personal theory that Sloan and I were-"

He censored himself, suddenly realizing how outrageous that would sound, but it was too late. Franki had picked up on it. "Were what?" She laughed. "You were lying. You're judging me because I used my sexuality to expose your fraud? Well, that's rich, Mr. I-Guess-I-Like-Girls-After-All. That's really rich."

He took a step back in the face of her accusation. "Okay. You've got a point. It's just that-"

He clamped his mouth shut and turned around, unwilling to share that thought. He walked to the sparse shade of a willow tree that had managed to take root in the sand at the base of the bluff.

She followed him. "It's just that what?"

He flopped down on the sand. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

He looked up at her as she towered over him, her sun-kissed hair whipping about her face, her breasts heaving, her complexion glowing from the sun and her recent fury.

He dropped his gaze to his feet and mumbled, "I was really starting to like you. That's what. And...and it hurt to realize it was all just a show." He cleared his throat. "To realize that I was just a means to an end for you."

She said nothing, but he could almost feel the anger draining out of her into the sand. She sat down beside him.

"And what do you think that end was?" she asked softly.

"You wanted to confirm that Sloan was lying so that you could..." "Could what?" "You still want him, don't you?" He hazarded a glance at her. "Derek was right. You do still have a thing for him."

She looked out over the waves. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"Because it's true?"

She picked up a handful of sand and drizzled it into the opposite palm. "Do you go shopping very

much?"

Startled, Craig shook his head and scowled. "I shop the Internet whenever possible. I'd buy my

groceries that way if I could."

She smiled, but her eyes were sad.

"What does that have to do with it?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment. "Sometimes, when I'm looking for something really special-you know, like a dress or a pair of shoes for a wedding or a really high-class party-I'll spend ages looking for just the right thing. Sometimes it takes weeks to find what I'm looking for. But sometimes I'll see something right away...you know in the very first store I walk into. I'll see it and think, Wow, that's just perfect. But then I'll think that I should really keep shopping in case I find something later that's better, or cheaper...or something. I think if I act too quickly I'll regret it, and I'll have wasted my money. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I finally figured out that I'm wasting my time if I keep looking. Every single time, I end up coming back to that store and buying the dress that I saw in the first place. Because everything that I saw since, I compared to that one. No matter how elegant, or beautiful, or unique, every other dress that I see can't measure up to the image I have in my head. Not because it's not as good, or not as special. Just because it's not that one. I finally learned my lesson. Now, when I see something I like, I buy it."

"That happened with Sloan?"

She nodded bleakly. "I know it's stupid, because I know he never returned my feelings. He always had eyes only for Bree. But one night he..."

The waves licked at the sand and the stones and he waited for her to finish.

"One night-it was my birthday, you see, and he and Bree had just broken up...again. Anyway, he got really drunk and he kissed me."

"And you saw fireworks."

"You ever hear of Pompeii? Mount St. Helen's? Hiroshima?"

He smiled.

"It made those explosions look like a bunch of wet firecrackers."

"Ah."

She carved a heart in the sand. "All through school there was something special about him. It was like

this natural charisma, this natural leadership thing..." She shrugged. "I'm not sure what it was, but

everybody always wanted to hang around him. To be close to him." Craig snorted. "You should see him at those LA parties. He's like a big honeypot that draws people-mostly women-like bees."

She nodded understanding. "We were all friends, but I think each of us felt a special connection to him. He and Troy were best buddies, and did things together that I can't tell you about because they'd kill me. Bree...well, that's obvious. I guess I always felt a little bit like I was on the fringe. Until he kissed me that is." She looked at him and her lips were trembling. "And it didn't help that-" She cut herself off and turned to face the water.

"What?" he urged, quietly.

"Nothing. Forget it."

Craig wasn't so sure. Her words had seemed reasonable, and yet he suspected they were inadequate to

explain such a lifelong obsession. There had to be more, something bigger to compel her to hold on to

Sloan for this long. "Come on, Franki. You've come this far. If you tell me what it is I'll promise to share my deepest darkest secret with you in return."

She looked at him skeptically. "You have a deep dark secret?" "You'd be surprised." One corner of her mouth quirked. "It's really nothing so terrible. It's just...personal." "And you hardly know me, right? I guess Bree and Troy know all about it." She shook her head slowly. "No. Believe it or not, they don't. I've never told anybody else." "Well, if you're worried about keeping your secret, I'm a good bet. I live in California. Who would I tell?"

Those lavender eyes turned as soft as violet petals. "It's funny, but I think I'd tell you anyway."

"Why? Why would you trust someone who's already proven himself a fraud and a liar?"

She didn't even smile. "I'm not sure. But I do."

He waited. And finally she spoke again, her voice barely audible above the breeze. "I'm a lot like my